No Exit
by alaricnomad
Summary: Lucas/Peyton. S3. After another fight with Brooke, Lucas comes to Peyton for comfort yet again, oblivious to her reawakening feelings for him. ONESHOT.


**No Exit**

A/N: Dedicated to **LPfan4ever** for being the 200th reviewer on Running to Stand Still. Her choice theme was something based on the song "Just When I Thought I Stopped Loving You" by Reba McIntyre. Another Peyton pining for Lucas in high school when he's with Brooke, but I hope you like it all the same.

…_I let you come over and cry on my shoulder _

_The hundredth time over again_

_And those old emotions came raining out of the blue,_

_Just when I thought I'd stopped loving you_

_Just when I thought I'd stopped loving you_

He'd come stumbling into her room, falling to his knees at her bedside. The heavy impact against the floor gave off a loud thump the little red numbers on her bedside clock flashing 3:00 a.m.

It was storming outside, tumultuous as rain slammed against the tin roofing above them, the violent rumble of the thunder in the distance reverberating through the air. Lightening crashed, illuminating the shadows and highlighting his pale, damp face to her view, drawing her into his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat at the raw, vulnerable emotion evident in their soft blue, their usually vivid hue dulled by the heartache held so poignantly in his gaze. He looked up at her with those eyes and any resistance she might have had to his presence collapsed in on itself, forced down without the slightest hesitance. What kind of friend would she be if she turned him away now?

She reached out to him, resting a hand between his shoulder-blades and nudged. He responded to her silent urging, struggling to his feet to sit next to her.

"Lucas," she whispered, "What happened?"

The only thing that left him was a soft whimper and she moved on instinct, embracing him. He relaxed into her arms, his whole body seeming to go slack with relief at her touch. She responded to his trembling by stroking his back with one hand, using the other to cradle his head as it fell to her shoulder. His shaking continued, more subtle but still there, and Peyton pressed kisses to his temple, worry enveloping her despite her better intentions.

His arms went around her tightly, careful not to crush her to him like he wanted so badly, wanting her near all the same. He frowned as he felt their difference in height, feeling the urge he wouldn't let his pride openly acknowledge- he wanted to be engulfed by her, cradled by her, cling to her strength and comfort as he let himself go.

He was not aware of the moment he sank back to his knees, but as he hit the floor, her embrace was still there, her hand stroking his hair as his body wracked with sobs, her voice warm and soothing against his ear. She held him for a long time, long after he had calmed, listening in silence as he spoke, not caring as his words rambled and became broken or unintelligible, as he released everything.

Another fight with Brooke, just as vicious and nasty as the last. Peyton's only response could be to hold him tighter, wondering at her best friend's logic. Why she kept pushing at Lucas, especially with the mess he was in the aftermath of Keith's death and the whole HCM debacle.

The more turbulent their relationship, the more vulnerable and emotional Lucas became. This was far from the first time he had come to her in the middle of the night, seeking comfort.

It wasn't easy to hold him so close, touch him the way she did, feeling him depend on her the way he did. It stirred up all too familiar feelings she could definitely do without. She suppressed a groan, tired already with the echo of frustration and struggle of denial that she could never win. There could be no victory for logic or reason in her heart; it was as stubborn as the rest of her. As much as she bemoaned her fate, the tiny parts that wanted to want him, wanted to love him, wanted to desire him all over again, rejoiced.

Lucas had always had an effect on her. He attracted her, from the very start as the person he was, a gentle, caring soul who wanted to understand her and take care of her, someone who freely offered to be the support she needed. He gave her friendship and companionship when she needed it the most, he gave her purpose and reassurance where no other made the same difference, he saw _her_ where no other was capable of breaking through her carefully constructed defenses.

He gave her hope, he gave her strength, and it was inevitable she fell in love. And later, even when their ill-fated relationship had collapsed, in the wake of her fear and his thoughtless mistakes, it changed nothing of how he made her breath catch, made her eyes follow him across a room, made her heart beat just a little faster.

She knew, implicitly, if he ever came to her seeking something more, something more than this quasi-platonic touch and comfort routine they had recklessly established, she would give in without thought of motive or consequence. Shamefully, but wholly, she understood the inevitability.

It was like a never-ending rollercoaster, or speeding down an endless highway. One step forward, two steps back, without a destination in sight. She had no way out, and no exit sign to bring her any sense of relief or escape. He kept running back to her, and she'd open her arms to him, welcoming him back into her heart and her embrace.

She sighed, shaking her head to dispel the disturbing trail of her thoughts. Lucas had long gone quiet in her arms, his breathing steady and deep, though he made no effort to let go of her. This, at least, she was familiar with, and she tugged him up, lying back on the bed. Lucas settled atop of her, resting his head against her chest as she kept up the soothing touches, fingers in his hair, caressing his back and shoulders.

He looked up at her after a time, and it wasn't hard to read the question in his eyes. She nodded, _yes_ he could stay, _yes _he could sleep with her, and_ yes _he could keep unconsciously playing with her heart.

A cool hand against his forehead once more, the warmth of her lips against his brow. A kiss. He sighed, contently, and nestled against her, falling soon into an easy slumber.

It was a long time before Peyton found sleep that night.


End file.
